Worst Trip Ever
by Dreaming Maya
Summary: ... Or best cruise yet? Tony and Rudolph will have some fun figuring that out! pre-slash/implied slash, oneshot, TonyXRudolph


Yo, peeps. This oneshot is as long as all hell but doesn't really go anywhere. Which irks me greatly. But, I felt like I might as well post it and appease my growing dislike at the fact that I can't update my stories frequently.

I seriously suck.

_Anyway_, I'm not too happy with this, so I might post a re-write at some point in the future. If I could be bothered. Which I might be. Maybe.

Thanks for the prompt roxxihearts - appriciate it.

* * *

><p><em>Blergh!<em> _Herk! *Coff coff*_ "Uuuhhh …."

"Do you need some ginger tablets, sweetie?" His mother's worried voice floated from outside of the bathroom. Another erratic rock of the boat and the terrible stench of bile got her no answer but more heaving.

He was not happy. He will never be happy – not on this sea-stranded hell. You'd think Rudolph would be used to it by now, he'd spent many summers for many years on this same cruise, going from one tropical island to the next with his eccentric family.

But he wasn't. There was no one anywhere _near_ his age, there never had been, and he'd been left with his baby sister and too-macho-for-you big brother, while his parents idly chatted to those who had the same number of figures in their annual budget as them. Plus he always spent the first few days with his head down the toilet before his stomach settled.

Rinsing and wiping his mouth, the boy stood, on shaky knees, and pushed open the door, forgoing his mother with a hurried excuse for rest, and headed away.

_Worst trip ever._ Rudolph thought, heading for his cabin.

00

On desk, staff amused their guests with fire-dancers and tribal drumming, as they headed towards the certain Island the music and moves came from. The guests seats were arranged in three spread-out isles, as the entertainment moved in between them.

Somewhere in the the middle isle, a woman nudged her son.

"Isn't this _fun_?" Tony's mother asked, smiling at her brooding son in an attempt to get him to lighten up. "Come on, now! It was _very_ nice of Dad's boss to give us these cruise tickets – try and enjoy it!" She insisted, while Tony dragged his face across the opposite end of the table then her. Dotty, used to her son's 'grumps', sipped her tropical drink and patted his back absentmindedly, ignoring him and watching the crew barbeque a large fish. "Ooh, I love grilled salmon!" She commented cheerfully.

Tony rolled his eyes. Trust his peppy mother to not see the fact that, while his friends in Cali were enjoying a summer lounging on the _familiar_ beach _together_ and checking out chicks, he was stuck with his _parents_ on a _ship_ and will only be able to scowl on _foreign_ beaches! You can never enjoy foreign beaches, Tony reckoned it was because the water felt different – that and, _maybe_, _partly_, because his Dad thought the most fantastic father-son thing to do was to get matching swimmers in light of the upcoming trip.

… Besides – aside from him, Tony was pretty sure this voyage was filled entirely by twenty-somethings, their grandparents, and their wailing brats. The All-American boy swore up and down that there was not _one_ person on this ship that was _nearly_ his age.

"Oh! Rudolph, darling, did you get your sister? And how are you feeling?"

Tony glanced up and saw, on the isle next to him, a young woman holding a boy's face. The boy gives a tired smile.

"I did- she will be down soon. And I feel fine enough."

Oh yeah, _him_. Tony blew out a sigh, the only kid at least near his age on this ship.

So maybe he should rephrase: He was the only middle-class, average 16-year-old on this ship. _Un_like Mister Silver-spoon-and-snob. And don't look at him like that; Tony _knew_ his type; he wouldn't even spare Tony a glance because they both knew he was out of his tax bracket.

Tony looked away, towards where his mother was clapping for some guy doing cartwheels.

He'd avoided it for all the three days he'd been here, but there was no other option, short of jumping ship and attempting to swim to Cali. (He couldn't use a life boat – they kept them locked up, he'd checked) He was going to have to brave the wailing, smelly, sticky, damp alternative to boredom – the Kid's Activity Centre.

Maybe some kid would fall on its face and Tony could have a laugh. … No, he was just joking – with his luck the child would break it's face on Tony's elbow and he'd have to nurse it back to health or bribe it with sugar or something.

_Worst trip ever …._ Tony thought, groaning as he let his forehead smack against the table.

00

You see, Tony had this habit of over-exaggerating. So the Kid's Activity Centre wasn't actually as bad as he thought it was ….

He glanced around at the hysterically screaming children, and kept his hands in his lap to avoid putting them in the sticky puddle on the desk he was sitting at, that he was too afraid to move from because he was worried he'd step on a kid, and have to do the same thing he thought he'd have to do if one of them broke their faces on his elbow.

It was definitely a lot worse then he imagined. He couldn't even _draw_ with the paper and coloured-pen/pencils/textas/crayons that were scattered all over the desk. And end sarcasm. (Besides, Tony had his _own_ pen.) He huffed as he felt with GameBoy dig into his leg – he couldn't even be bothered playing with it ….

He was extremely grateful when a damp cloth suddenly reached out to clean away the slowly-drying puddle.

"Thanks," Tony began, looking up and expecting one of the aids, then realised a little girl was standing there, tossing the dirty cloth over her shoulder.

The girl smiles, and Tony noticed she was missing a few teeth.

"You're welcome!" She declared cheerfully, and, without any further ado, stepped up to Tony, standing right next to where he was sitting. Before Tony could ask her what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around him. Now Tony was afraid to move in case the kid bit him. Kids did that. "I like you." She added shortly, before thankfully stepping away from him and letting him move his chair away from her.

"Um … okay." Tony says, slowly, in fear of making the kid cry. Kids did that too. She smiles though, and sits on the other chair at the desk, also introducing herself as 'Anna!' very loudly.

"Will you draw me a pony?" Anna asks, pushing a piece of printer paper and a blunt red pencil towards him. Tony was considerably relieved – Anna must like him in the way of 'You'll do stuff for me, I can tell'. Tony was used to that sort of liking, it happened to him a lot … which was very sad.

Tony forewent the pencil in favour of his pen, and, covering the paper with his arm to hide his work, drew a rather good, at least he thought, pony. It had that 'My Little Pony' tramp-stamp and everything.

"… Why is it's butt on fire?" Anna asks when he passes it to her. Tony was immediately indignant.

"That's what kind of pony it is! … 'Fire Pony' …." Tony then realises, and fully accepts, the fact that he didn't know how My Little Ponies were named. Anna, though, nods, then makes a face.

"This is really bad," she looks Tony in the eye, "you can't draw, can you?" She asks with child-like bluntness. Tony scowls.

"Apparently not," He mutters, resolving himself in not drawing anything for another child again. So much for gratefulness …. Anna picks up Tony's pen, and grabs another piece of paper, and begins to draw.

"Here, I will draw it. You play with your game." She says, and Tony shrugs, still extremely miffed, but obligingly takes out with GameBoy and begins fiddling with it for a few seconds. As Anna draws, Tony looks around the room, now able to lean on the table. It was a pretty okay room – if your liked the over-usage of the colour blue. The theme was definitely 'Under The Sea' and they didn't want you to forget that for a second. Seriously.

By the time Tony has finished sneering at the décor, Anna holds the paper up in front of her and admires her work.

"Done!" She yells, and shows Tony … a very wonky horse-like thing. It could be a dog. Nonetheless, Tony smiles at her.

"That's way good." He assures her, though Anna doesn't seem to need it as she nods proudly.

"It is! Everyone tells me I'm a good drawer." She says, then points to herself. "They say I'm the best nine-year-old drawer ever." She adds, looking serious. Tony nods.

"I think you are too," Tony says, not mentioning that he didn't know any other nine-year-olds. Anna smiles at him, and puts her paper down, smoothing it over for good measure, and smudging most of the ink. Tony laughs softly as she frowns at her ink-smeared hands. "I'm sixteen." Tony says, deciding that the girl might want to know. Anna nods.

"I thought so. You must be the worst sixteen-year-old drawer ever, huh?" Her brutal honesty makes Tony sigh sadly. Why were children so cruel?

"Um … I never really thought about it …." Tony mutters. Anna seems to think that was acceptable, and begins to colour her pony, and Fire Pony, with the same pen she drew them with, all the while chatting to a half-listening Tony about how 'mushrooms will take over the world, and they'll be aliens, and I'll, because I like you, would help you be saved from them; because I'm the princess of the mushroom aliens …' she continues on, quite cheerfully, and Tony interjects every now and again, until she finishes her pictures, and shows them to him.

He smiles. "They look great!" He says, "Why don't you show me the mushrooms next?" He suggests, and Anna nods while pulling out another piece of paper, and begins drawing the aliens.

She had just finished putting the last touches on the eyes, with Tony's encouragement, when a shadow fell over them both. As they both looked up, and Tony stared at the young man looking down at them.

"Hey, brat – mum wants you." He says shortly, and Tony looks over at Anna, who huffs in annoyance while standing. She turns to Tony.

"Bye, Tony!" She yells, and Tony gives her a wave as she runs off.

When Anna had left with what must have been her older brother, Tony realises he'd spent three hours with her, and gets up, stretches, and heads out the door as well.

Then he realises the kid had taken his pen.

"… Fuck it." Tony mutters, and heads to the cabin number he remembered the nine-year-old babbling about in between the detailed invasion of mushroom aliens.

00

As Tony reached the floor that Anna's cabin number was on, he began to feel out of his depth. The level was one of the more pricy ones, with useless plants hanging from the ceiling and vases with carefully arranged flowers on the side tables places a few feet apart from each other.

Not only was it useless, it was also very easy to break, at least, that was Tony's opinion. Not that it mattered right now, right now his priority was to get that pen back. Tony grumbled, wishing he could just let Anna keep it – unfortunately, the pen was one of his dad's 'super-special pen used for drawing big important things that golf courses so don't lose it', well maybe it shouldn't have been given to Tony in the first place.

Oh wait, he'd asked to use it.

Which means he was going to have to knock and get it back, hopefully with no drama. And hopefully, Anna hadn't lost it. Kids did that as well.

When he got to the cabin room in particular, Tony was slightly off-put when he noticed that it seemed quiet, yet the door was ajar. For a few moments, he toys with the 'dead hooker' idea, then realises what floor he was on. 'Dead expensive playgirl' then. Then he remembers Anna was supposedly in there. Uh-oh.

Even as the thought passes through his head, Tony snorts and shakes himself slightly. It was only because these corridors were rather quiet and more than a little creepy, with all their rich gloom.

He still needed that pen.

Cautiously, Tony pushes the door open just a touch more, and peeks inside. Just to see if there was some kind of orgy going on in there, or if … someone was sleeping. Face down. On the bed.  
>Well, there were two beds, Tony corrects himself, and he hoped the guy was just sleeping.<p>

Thinking about closing the door and coming again at a more busier-looking time, Tony begins to back away, when he notices a piece of paper on the floor.

Not one to be nosy, but instead curious, Tony picks it up, face down so he couldn't see the writing, and considers putting it on a table or something.

Then he notices what kind of ink was on it. It was definitely his dad's pen. Deciding that sort of justified having a quick peek at the note, in hopes of it mentioning a destination, he quickly scans the message.

_Going w/ An to the food. Wait w/ this pen for 'Tony' (?) An's idea.  
>Hope this time you won't puke yourself over-board.<em>

_- Greg_

Tony quickly puts the note back on the floor, and cautiously walks inside. So his Dad super-expensive pen was in here … but where?

It didn't really occur to Tony to come back another day – why wait when the pen was already here? Tony didn't see the harm in having a quick look, finding his pen, then getting the hell out of there; he wasn't a bad person by any means, their belongings and person were safe from him.

So, with that, Tony began to snoop.

He checked the bed tables of the two single beds that were in there, making sure not to make any sound that could wake up the person lying face-down on the bed. Because he was asleep - Tony could confirm both that and the person's gender now that he had a closer look.

But back to the pen.

Tony began looking through the table/clothes drawers that run alongside the wall; opposite the bed. So his back was turned. So he didn't see the ominous shadow that loomed, and could only jump a foot in the air when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Ah!" Tony gave a yelp, and spun around, coming face-to-face with – the other guy that looked around his age!

What was his name again? Rodger? Didn't it end with an 'ph'?

Well – Rodger didn't look very pleased. In fact, he was glaring pretty harshly.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my cabin?" The boy demands, and Tony could only give out another yelp when his shoulder was squeezed painfully. This guy was strong! Which wasn't very fair – sure, he had broader shoulders then Tony himself, and looked a little bigger, but the guy still looked really lean!

Then Tony realised the boy expected him to answer. Crap.

"Um, cabin? Well, I, um, I … I'm a cabin-boy!" Tony yelled out. The face-palm he gave himself was only in his head, but his cheeks sure did heat up. The other boy looks sceptical, so Tony quickly smiles. "Yeah! Just here to clean up a bit!"

"Really? Don't the maids do that? I've been on this boat before – they've never had a cabin-boy." The boy says, his voice curt. Tony gulped.

"Well … I'm a new feature …." Tony said, his smile lessening under the boy's stern glare.

"Have you finished digging your grave?" He asked, and Tony actually found himself pouting. He thought that was a pretty 'okay' lie ….

Tony practically watches his next words leave his mouth. "Just a few more feet?" He asked, and silence reigned ….

"No." The other boy snapped, no amusement in his tone, but Tony almost thought he saw the other's red lips twitch. "Who are you, _really_?" The boy continues, giving Tony a once-over. "And don't try and sell me that 'cabin-boy' shit, if you were one; you'd be wearing the ship's uniform." The boy pointed out, and Tony looked down at his white board-shorts and blue Hawaiian shirt.

"… Good point." Tony muttered, while the other boy just smirked, though not unkindly, more so just very smug. Sensing the other boy wasn't likely to dob him in at this point; Tony introduces himself. "Name's Tony Thompson. I was looking for my pen." He said, deciding the truth may just be believable, and watched as the other boy's eyes widened, and he turned to look at where the note was.

"Hang on! … If you're that Tony – why didn't you just say so?" The boy asked, looking as confused as Tony was furious. At himself.

"… Good point." Tony conceded again, and the other boy just sighed, stepping away from him, and letting go of his shoulder; both of which Tony was very grateful for.

"Wait – why should I believe you're _the_ Tony? You could have just read the note …." He says, looking suspicious. Tony realised that, again, he could have thought this though a little more.

"… Okay. Um – is 'An' short of 'Anna'? Because that's the little girl I hung with at the Activity Centre." Tony said. Then also realised that if it wasn't – then this would be a very bad coincidence. The other boy nods, though, looking thoughtful, and shoves his hand into his black, expensive-looking pants, and pulls out … the pen! Tony grins from ear-to-ear as the other boy hands it to him.

"Thanks! … Um … guy!" Tony says, trying to sound upbeat, as he doubted the other's name was actually Rodger. He smiles though, and Toy notices that his teeth were hella-white.

"Rudolph. Rudolph Sackville-Bagg. Anna's my younger sister." He explains, and Tony, though slightly surprised, gets over his shock as Rudolph offers his hand to shake.

After they let go, Tony holds up the pen.

"Thanks for this, by the way. My Dad would flip if I actually lost this." Tony explains, and Rudolph smiles.

"It was no problem … though you could have found a different way to get it back. Why, I have half a mind to tattle, and you don't need that, do you, hm?" Though, in the back of his mind, Tony realised Rudolph had been joking, the front half of his mind quickly set into 'ho-shite-panic!' mode. Tony, his eyes wide, thought furiously, and, in an effort to look casual, shoved his hands in his pockets … but winced as one of his hands slammed against something hard that was already in there ….

"Here!" Without thinking, Tony yanked out his GameBoy, thrust it into a surprised-looking Rudolph's face, before turning, forcing out what could have been a goodbye but sounded more like a garbled mess, then high-tailing it out of the room.

He was almost half-way down the hall before a body slammed into him from behind.

"-I said wait!" Tony was down on the ground, and a heavy weight slowly crushing him, as he got an extremely-close close-up of Rudolph's face. In his shocked state, Tony sort of wondered how he didn't notice the clean good-looks of the boy before.

"Sorry, Tony!" Rudolph yelled. Then he snapped out of it, and, ignoring the pain and the strange feeling in his stomach, Tony suddenly found again, he was upright. Rudolph had apparently dragged him up.

Looking slightly out-of-breath, though, Tony realised, not furiously blushing like himself, Rudolph held out the gaming console, looking slightly pissed. Gingerly, he took the item back.

"You don't need to _trade_ my silence, you know." Rudolph said, crossing his arms. Tony gave him a nervous grin.

"Well, um … I have this bad habit of not thinking properly … which I'm trying to kick …." Tony was also trying to kick himself for that stupid attempt at humour, too. Rudolph snorts a laugh out of his nose, and, looking a lot less angry, put his hands on his hips.

"I'd much rather you accept an invitation to dine alone with me; as I'm more then positive I _will_ rip my hair out if I have to endure another row between my father and my older brother," Rudolph gave him a smile that didn't help Tony's belly much, "if you wouldn't mind …." He adds, and Tony, slightly stunned, realised the other boy wanted to hang with him.

… Maybe he wasn't as rich as Tony thought. In hindsight, that was a pretty bad thought, but Tony was pretty sure no kid with a silver spoon in their mouth would bother with average, 'just friends' Tony Thompson. Or maybe Rudolph was just different.  
>Tony found he wouldn't mind either or.<p>

Oh, right, dinner offer.

"Um, sure – if you don't mind the introductions my mother would no doubt demand if I don't eat 'like a family' … I swear I'll go bald before you …." Tony heaves a sigh, not wanting to think about his mother's smothering version of 'family' which made Tony feel like he was an eight-year-old again. Rudolph laughs, which was a surprisingly rich sound that reminded Tony of dark chocolate. Which made him hungry*.

"I wouldn't mind at all. And if we do both go bald; we can buy wigs. I'm sure I could pull one off …." Tony gives a smile as Rudolph slicks his hair back modestly, before giving the boy a wink. "Now – if you'll excuse me, I need to sleep off this sea-sickness before I start hurling … yet again." Rudolph says the last part with a sneer, and Tony can't help but let a little smirk onto his face.

"Have fun with that." Tony says, and was going shot a mock-glare in response, as Rudolph walks back to his cabin, and closes the door.

… Different indeed. Is the only thought Tony allows himself, as he himself heads back to his own room, thinking it was about time to return his Dad's bloody pen ….

* * *

><p>* And not just for food … kidding! Really :D<p>

You like? I don't. Really need to re-write it. I also need to edit it, but right now I don't want to. I'll do it in a bit - my school studies are too depressing right now ... *sigh* poor me ...

Still accepting prompts, by the way - though I AM writing a slash Uncle Von/Elizabeth fic. Thoughts?


End file.
